Master and Zanpakuto
by addictedanimelover
Summary: During the day Tachikaze and the Captain of the ninth are just master and zanpakuto. But when night comes, they become something much more.


During the day we're just master and zanpakuto.

He gives orders and all I can do is obey.

Tonight, though... things are different tonight, now that he's here with me. Just rolling over and falling asleep inside his inner world would be a waste of time. A little too tired for eloquently confessing my desire with words, I settle for roughly tugging on his clothes until he gets the hint and takes it off himself.

It's more entertaining this way. I get to watch the Captain start off suprised, then shift through uncertainty before deciding that yes, I'm really saying that I want him to get naked already.

"Tachi….would it kill you to use words once in a while?" But to show he has no hard feelings he leans down for a kiss, barely brushing his lips against mine. His lips weren't soft, being outside all day underneath the strong rays of light was the cause of that, but compared to chapped lips, they could be worse.

He only kisses my cheek which does throw me off guard even though I have nothing to fear. He also presses a feather-light brush of his lips against my skin as he lies down beside me. My cheek, forehead, even the tip of my nose were victims to those teasingly light pecks, which makes me crack a smile and chuckle softly in amusement.

Only a few hours ago those surprisingly gentle lips were shouting vulgarities at seated officers and his inner hollow. That orange-gloved hand that lovingly cups my cheek was a weapon, as deadly as any blade. But unlike our weapon of choice, his fists can serve any purpose at a moment's notice - from killing hollow to caressing my skin like it was something precious.

It's hard to decide which I prefer. The violent touches or gentle caresses?

Master takes an abrupt break from showering me with light kisses to pull away and pull off his shirt. Before he can start on his pants, I silently reach out and grab his hands, trying with sleepy, clumsy fingers to pull off his gloves.

"Hey -" He frowns, clearly puzzled, and tries to yank his hands away, but I can be just as persistent as master when I want to be.

"Tachikaze, why...?" I just silently shake my head and finally succeed at the small task, tossing the gloves aside, letting them drop onto the warehouse's floor and take his hands in both of my own. It's not something I can explain, at least not without sounding just a little crazy.

I just... like the way it feels to really touch him, skin to skin, without that inner barrier in between. I like the coarseness of his skin; his rough, scarred knuckles; the way I can look at his hands and know that they're weapons, just as surely as I can look at….OUR sword and know the same.

They're something to be treated with the utmost care and respect, like any weapon, but not something to be feared. At least not for me.

None of that is the kind of thing that I could possibly express in words, especially not now. So I just lower my head submissively and lovingly kiss his knuckles instead, each one in turn, and smile against his skin when he chuckles and pulls me closer. As I continue to lavish attention upon him, his other hand gets up to mischief, sneaking down into my boxers, and even there, against my thighs, I can't help but feel the calluses.

"You okay with this?" He asks, breaking the silence as his fingers curling gently around my length, causing me to gasp softly.

In battle, I fight at his command, and yet here in bed he refuses to act without my explicit consent; he really is a kind master through, despite the rough edges. What I can't say, because I can't find the words, is how nice it is that he asks, every time, never taking my willingness for granted.

There's something depressing about our relationship. It's a bittersweet feeling, knowing both that he cares so much for me, treats me like a comrade and lover and yet, somewhere deep inside, he's always belonged to that mere child.

It should tear my soul in half that I'll one day have to give him up and be able to willingly hand him over to another, but…it doesn't hurt that much. Because my greatest wish is that he's happy. Ever since we've left Soul Society, he's been distant and always seems to remember the child. He even mentions the boy's name in his sleep. The truth is right up in my face.

Though I can't deny it. There's a painful aching above my heart that…hurts.

He jerks me off slowly but not too gently, his grip just firm enough to distract me from planting a trail of kisses down his bare chest. I end up burying my face in his shoulder and lightly bite my bottom lip, because the walls are thin and sound carries in the warehouse we currently reside in.

He knows exactly how to touch me (Probably because we're alike), remembers that I like it slow, lazy and unrushed, pleasure racing up my spine and pooling hot and heavy in the pit of my stomach.

Then suddenly, master stops.

I quickly lift my head to ask why the pause, but before my drowsy mind can wrap itself around words that need to be spoken, he presses his fingertips to my barely parted lips to shush me.

"Open up Tachi," He coaxes with an upturn of the corners of his lips, and I finally get the picture, parting my quivering lips to gently suck his fingers into my willing mouth and coat them in saliva. It's not just for my own comfort's sake that I'm thorough, swirling my tongue in careful little spirals down each finger to the base; it causes his eyes to darken and them moan softly, and that just about makes my night. It's always better when I can make him feel pleasure too.

Once I let the digits slip from my lips, he's quick to reach down again, trailing them lightly down my harden cock and making me tremble with pure need.

"Ready?" - And when I curtly nod, he kisses the side of my head, brushing strands of hair out of the way and pushes two fingers inside all at once.

The rhythm he falls into now is different, quicker, but no less careful than before. His fingers rock in and out of me in small, shallow movements, just enough to rub against sensitive nerves and send me arching up into his other hand, now currently curled around my leaking shaft.

Over and over he strokes and thrusts his fingers, and for a few minutes I can manage to hold back from cumming before it suddenly overwhelms me and-

"A-AAAH! M-Master..!"

I came hard, clutching his shoulders, fingernails digging into skin and moaning lewdly against his bare throat.

When I can sort think again he's already getting me cleaned up, and before I can quite remember how to work my trembling limbs he's pulling the blankets over me and tucking me into bed.

I could force myself to stay awake long enough to return the favor, but I know he won't resent me if I don't, and I'm just so tired...

"Get some sleep, Tachikaze. You've earned it."


End file.
